


Sober

by bikuai



Series: My CTO is a Hipster [1]
Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Just an exposure of feelings, Light-Hearted, Not fluff but not angst either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-19 04:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10632198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikuai/pseuds/bikuai
Summary: You and Dusan sometimes go out for coffee together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> More song fics? Yes.
> 
> Sober by Childish Gambino

**_8:39._** You were almost ten minutes late.

 

Power-walking your way through the droves of tourist foot traffic, you could just begin to see the quaint cafe down the street. You were worried Dusan might have already left. He was a busy person, and not the most patient either. He had better things to do than wait on you.

You increase your pace when you near the cafe, almost sprinting to catch the door as a group of patrons left. Ignoring the odd looks they cast your way, you stepped inside the coffee shop. It was a personal favorite of yours. The redwood paneling and pristine white tables offered a minimalistically modern aesthetic.

The aroma of warm caramel and coffee beans hit you instantly, threatening to overpower your senses. You couldn't help but wonder if there was a Yankee Candle that would smell this good.

Eyes sweeping over the different tables and booths, you spotted Dusan near the back. His gaze met yours, and you swear you could see a hint of smirk there. Part of you was relieved he had waited, and another part wanted to smack that smug look off his face.

Taking the seat across from Dusan, you awaited a most certain reprimanding.

"I free up my entire morning for this, and you can't even show up on time. What do you have to say for yourself?" He takes a sip of his coffee, expecting an answer.

"Sorry, I overslept." You admitted. "I was up late last night."

"I figured. You did call me pretty late." Dusan relaxed back against the leather cushions. "What was with that anyway?"

You opened your mouth, but your brain didn't supply you with a response. Sifting through your vague recollection of last night, his question remained unanswered. Everything was a blur, and the reason you had called him was lost among the muddle. Something in the back of your mind hinted that you might have been drunk.

You remembered calling Dusan, but whatever you had said was lost to you. Not even your plans to meet up for coffee had remained in your memory. Luckily, part of you had been sober enough last night to set an alarm on your phone titled "Coffee with Dusan @ 8:30". It caught you slightly off guard in the morning, but you knew better than to second guess yourself.

Sighing, you rested your cheek against the palm your hand. "It's not that important." It was played off as nothing, but he knew you too well to believe that.

"Really?" He leaned in close to your face and lowered his voice. "Because I remember how you said you planned on breaking up with your boyfriend—something about how he ate all your frosted animal crackers?" He sipped his latte again, anticipating your response.

 _Had you really said that?_ It seemed like something you would say, but the memories from last night were too hazy to tell.

The air between the two of you was still, and neither made a move to change that. Sensing that you had no memory of the conversation, Dusan continued.

"You said something along the lines of..."

Dusan then proceeded to speak the longest and by far the most vulgar string of explicit profanities you had ever heard. Your face grew uncomfortably warm. You wondered how much you must have drank to become _that_ worked up over some crackers that vaguely resembled lions and gorillas. His words jogged your memory, reminding you of everything else you had said. You resisted the urge to cringe at the memories of your drunken self.

Dusan threw his head back and laughed—you could only imagine how your face looked right now.

"I did not say anything like that." You pouted and balled your hands into fists, showing your disapproval. "Besides, it doesn't matter; I broke up with him."

"That's the second guy you've dated in the last two months. Are you ever thinking of getting serious?" His tone changed, just slightly.

You hesitated with your answer, mulling it over in your brain. You wanted a serious relationship, but things always went wrong with the people you dated, and you could never bring yourself to try to fix things. It always felt like a lost cause. You sighed.

"Maybe, when I can get with the right guy.... Or something—I'm not sure." You cut yourself short, trying to preserve the light-heartedness of the conversation.

He maintained an unreadable expression. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

"I just broke up with someone—I'm not exactly looking for another boyfriend now." You narrowed your eyes at his words. 

Dusan crossed his arms. "If that's what you say, then I guess I'll take your word for it."

You knew what he was trying to do. If there was something he wanted to know, he would find out one way or another. He would know who you were crushing on before you did. You caved and decided to answer his question.

"Okay, okay, there is this one guy I kinda like. He's nice, and smart, and very charming. We don't talk often, but he's always there for me when things get hard, y'know?"

A perplexed look crossed Dusan's face, followed by something else that you couldn't quite catch. You wondered what he was thinking about.

"Well, why don't you get with him, instead of all the other losers you date?"

"He's out of my league." You shrugged, feigning indifference, but the realization still hurt.

"That's too bad." You could feel the hesitation in his reply. Glancing at his smart watch, he shifted the subject. "I have a meeting in thirty."

"You should probably get going. I'll talk to you later." You felt like you should say more, but you kept your mouth shut. This wasn't a friendship you wanted to ruin.

And yet, watching him walk out put a foreign pressure on your heart.

 

 ** _9:15._** You wished love could be simpler.

**Author's Note:**

> Hastily written and edited in a flurry of passion. Sorry for mistakes.


End file.
